The Past Returns to the Future
by Diru Bleached
Summary: Harry wanders in the halls after a fight he has with Ron and Hermione. He passes out in the west wing hall, thrid floor corridor. When he wakes up, time has passed. But more then expected...Possibly a One-Shot...


The halls were unnaturally dark. The echoes of his footsteps were louder than usual. But it was still so silent somehow. Then he realized why. He was alone.

Why did he have to be so hasty? He didn't have to do that. He knew she'd get offended. And Ron? He was trying to help. But no, he had to pick on him too. Now he was…alone. In the dark Hogwarts halls. In his invisibility cloak. This was the first time in a long time he had gone by himself. Now he was beginning to regret the fact that he had screamed at Hermione and shoved Ron. That's why he was alone out here tonight. He was trying to forget. He couldn't sleep it off.

He was wandering aimlessly now. Where was he? He didn't remember this part of the school. Then again, with the size of Hogwarts, not even Dumbledore could memorize the twisting maze.

"Sigh…" he was getting lonely. An emotion he thought he only felt at Privet drive. Since he first arrived at Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione were always there to back him up. Not this time. He had picked a fight with everybody and this was his consequence.

"Chuckle…" Consequence? Hermione really was overstepping her border by saying that Harry was a delinquent. After all those times he had saved her big head from certain death …

It was getting even darker now. What time was it? 2:00 in the morning? He had lost track hours ago. He couldn't tell where he was going now. Wait a minute, yes he could. He knew this path. He had tracked it before, a few years back. Perhaps it was…? Yes. It was the West wing on the third floor. He began to get curious. What would he find this time?

He walked over to the dead end of the hall and put his hand on the knob of the big rusty wooden door. It wasn't locked. He slowly pushed it open. There was the trap door. Although now, there was something missing. No giant three headed dog. He decided to go down.

It hadn't changed since the last time he was there. It was still exceptionally dark, quiet and creepy. Only this time, it was just one long hallway. There were no Devil's snares, no giant chessboards, trolls, flying keys or potions. Just darkness. It was a long walk.

When he arrived at the main chamber at the end of the hall, he saw something quite unexpected. It was the Mirror of Erised. Hadn't it been moved to a 'safer place' like Dumbledore said? What was it still doing here? He began to wonder, but then something caught his eye. The mirror was glowing. It emitted a strange eerie dark red light. He walked closer to it. As he approached, he expected to see himself with his parents, just like he did the last time he looked. It was, after all, his innermost desire. He quickened his paced. He had longed to his parents' faces again. But as he continued to stare, he saw something else.

It wasn't him, it was a grown up man - and not just any man. To his utter astonishment, it was the one man he had least expected to see. The man he had met the last time he was in this room. It was Tom Riddle. But he was in his human body. He looked like a teenager, a little older than Harry was at this time. He was walking and looking blankly around him. Then, without warning, he stopped. Then he stared right back at Harry. Harry blinked. Then, Tom Riddle extended his right arm and clenched a fist. At this moment, Harry felt a searing pain in his scar. He clutched his head, but it was no use. His legs gave way, and he fell…

Everything was a blur. Harry tried to steady himself and standup, but he had fallen too hard. He lay on the cold stone floor for another ten minutes before fully regaining consciousness. When his senses were back in place, he realized that something was astir in the upper halls. There were sounds of running footsteps, faint gasping and even occasional shrieks. Something had happened while he was off in dreamland. How long had he been out cold? He wondered…then he realized he had to get up and see what was going on. Upon mustering full strength, he got up, and without taking a second look at the mirror, he bolted into the dark halls. What he didn't see was that the figure in the mirror hadn't disappeared. He was still there, looking at Harry. Then a wide grin spread across his face and there was a glint in his eye. His dark red eye.

Upon getting back up the trapdoor, Harry immediately realized things were different. Instead of there being another door in front of him, it was a hallway with stairs leading down at the end of it. He rushed to the stairs and looked down. There was the riot. All the Hogwarts students were running down the stairs from every possible direction. There were prefects at every corner, screaming instructions. A few people had already begun to panic. Then he noticed why. The smell of smoke from the upper chambers.

"Hey ! You! Get down from there!" one of the prefects had seen him. But the fact that he came from a forbidden corridor seemed to have slipped the prefect's mind. He didn't even seem to know who this prefect was. That didn't matter. He ran toward the other students' direction.

"What happened up there?" he asked a ravenclaw girl. She didn't even look at him, but ran off even faster.

"What's going on here?" he whispered to himself.

When Harry arrived at the big double door serving as the main entrance to Hogwarts, he was shocked to see that it had been torn down. Off the hinges. Violently. He ran out to a group of huddled and shaking students. They seemed about his age, and they were all pointing upward, blabbering nonsense. He looked up. Now there was something he didn't think he'd ever see. All the towers and high chambers of Hogwarts were on fire. On a raging, blue and red, out-of-control fire. The heat was so intense it made the ground shake. Something was very wrong.

"Attention Students!" came a loud, booming voice from the back of the group. "Everyone follow your respective prefects to your shelters! Immediately! No talking!" There was a sudden hush from the crowd, like a cold wind swept across them. Then, nothing but scared footsteps scattering to every direction. They had prepared for this, Harry thought to himself. But why? And why was everything so…unfamiliar?

He looked around. These were Hogwarts students and faculty, sure enough. But he couldn't recognize any of them. Where were Ron and Hermione? Professor McGonagall was nowhere to be seen either. Not even Dumbledore.

"Nah. They've got to be around here somewhere." Or were they?

He walked up to the students in Gryffindor uniform. They seemed to be more composed now. If he was going to find out what was going on, he might as well talk to someone. "What's going on? Where's Dumbledore?" he asked a boy his age. The boy turned to Harry. "The attack. It's started."

Harry stared. This kid looked an awful like Ron, only taller. With the red hair, freckles, build…

"Are you a Weasley?" He couldn't keep the question to himself. _But then again, how could there be an Eighth Weasley?_ He thought to himself. _Nah._

The boy smiled. "How'd you know? I though our name was forgotten after my Aunt Ginny graduated. Hehe. Guess not. Yeah, I'm Michael Weasley. Fifth Year." He extended his hand.

Harry was dumbfounded. _My Aunt Ginny Graduated?_

"Uh Yeah…" he said, shaking the boy's hand but looking back at the direction of Hogwarts.

"Aunt Ginny…" he thought to himself. "Graduated…" What on earth was going on here? This was…the future…? Then it suddenly came surging back to him. The forbidden corridor, the Mirror of Erised, the eye of Tom Riddle…

"Hey! You okay?" Michael was waving his hand in front of Harry's face. Harry shook his head. "Huh?"

"Hey, I know it's hard to accept, but we've got to move on. C'mon, let's go to the shelter."

_This is not happening. How could it? This is sheer lunacy. It's impossible. _He had to know more.

He started walking with Michael. "So um…"

"Wait!" Michael interrupted. "You haven't told me your name yet. I don't think I've seen you around before." Harry thought quickly.

"Oh, yeah. I'm…James. Um…I'm in the fifth year too." Harry stopped. This was pathetic.

"You are?" Michael looked back at him, then at his robes. "And you're a Gryffindor too. Why haven't I ever seen you around before?"

"That's because…I'm a…delinquent. Yeah, I get detention a lot." Harry said.

Then he thought to himself "At this very moment, Hermione would be scolding me for saying stuff like this." He smiled. Then he remembered how he had screamed at her during their argument only hours before he landed _here_. In this…place. Or was it _time?_

"Hey Michael," He began. "Uh, see, I…you know, being the delinquent I am…I don't really pay attention a lot at class…y'know?"

"Hey, no sweat." Michael replied. "It's not like what they're teaching us is too interesting or anything." He chuckled.

"Yeah, okay. So, sorry to ask but, what is this _attack_?" Harry looked back at Michael, who was staring at him wide-eyed.

"You don't know?"

"Ahh…"

"Oh, I get it. You were probably in detention when they announced this. Otherwise how could you not know?"

"Yeah! That's right. I was in detention." Harry said, wiping off his sweat.

"Okay," Michael started. "well, you know how about 13 years ago, when the famous Harry Potter – "

"Harry Potter?" Harry cut in. This included _him_?

"Yeah. You know him huh? His stories were probably the most interesting of all the subjects."

"Uh, yeah I think so too." Harry was getting more curious now. " So what about him?"

"Well, it was 13 yeas ago when he was only a few years before graduation at Hogwarts…He disappeared."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "He did?"

"Uh-huh. I know this story by heart. He disappeared. And when he reappeared about a year later, he had been transformed into a powerful dark wizard."

Harry was dumbfounded for the second time tonight. "He was? How? Who did it? What happened?"

"Hey, slow down!" Michael said, patting Harry in the back. "I guess you should start paying more attention to the lectures now huh? Hehe. Just kidding. Anyway – "

"LOOK!"

A young Hufflepuff girl was jumping in excitement, pointing upwards.

"Cool. They're here." Michael said, grinning.

Harry's head was spinning. Just when he thought things could not go crazier, they did.

The loud, booming voice who had called the students to order earlier spoke above the crowd's murmurs. "At last, the Aurors."

"Aurors…" Harry whispered to himself. "Like Mad-Eye Moody…"

"Hey, did you know my Uncle Ron's actually an Auror? Cool huh?"

It took a full five seconds for Michael's words to process through Harry's mind.

"_Uncle What?_" He said, half panicky, half amused, half stunned.

"My Uncle Ron. And My Aunt Hermie too. They're aurors. Heehee. With all my clan members I can't seem to keep track anymore."

This was getting way in over Harry's head. Ron and Hermione…aurors? These were not at all their intended ambitions. Well, at least not the last time he spoke to them. Then again, now that he was in the future…

"_I wonder what else has changed in the course of me getting sucked here…"_

Without a second thought, Harry ran towards the site where the aurors were landing, ignoring Michael's calls.

He quickly scanned the crowd. Half the aurors landed and the other half continued flying toward the burning Hogwarts. He looked back at the group in front of him. He spotted a tall man. Thin, fiery red hair, stern but determined face…bingo.

He was about to approach the man when someone tackled him from behind.

"What the hell do you think you're doing! You said you were a delinquent! Not an Azkaban escapee!" Michael scolded him, dragging him back towards the other students.

"You don't understand!" Harry cried out, wrestling Michael back. "This is important! I've got to – "

He got cut short by the same voice that kept calling out orders since earlier that night.

"What is this racket? What is going on here! We're in a state of crisis for god's sake! You kids!"

A very tall, very dark, very wrinkled, very scary looking man approached Harry and Michael.

"Speak now or forever hold your peace boys…" The man said, obviously very distracted, annoyed and dangerous.

"I'm sorry Headmaster Longbottom, sir! James here was just so traumatized by the incident that he lost himself! Please forgive us sir!"

_Headmaster Longbottom ?_ Harry was in a total state of shock now.

"How about you! James is it? 250 from Gryffindor! What have you got to say for yourself!"

Harry was silent.

"I told you sir, it's trauma. Perhaps if we just return to our shelters – "

"You aren't here to give me orders Weasley! Another 250 from Gryffindor!"

"Aww man…" Michael said under his breath, helping the limp Harry to his feet. "That's 500."

Before he could turn around, a younger voice intervened.

"Come on Nev. Cut them some slack. These are difficult times, especially for children."

Harry snapped back to reality. His head shot up to reveal…

"Grumble…all right Ron. Only because you're an Auror now. You're off the hook boys." Hogwarts Headmaster Neville Longbottom said, eyeing them.

"Phew!" Michael wiped the sweat beads off his forehead. "Thanks Uncle Ron."

"No problem Michael." Ron said smiling. "I know what it feels like to be in trouble at school. So who's you're friend?" He asked, seeing Harry, who had been staring at him.

"I'm James!" Harry cried out.

"Whoa, relax James. We'll get this under control in no time." Ron replied, still speaking as if nothing happened. "We've handled cases like this before."

Suddenly, a beautiful blonde woman called out from behind them.

"Ron! We need you here! Quick!"

Ron looked back at her and smiled. "I'm coming!"

He turned to Harry and Michael. "Well boys, Aunt Hermione's calling. Gotta Work. Go on ahead to your shelters, kay?"

"You got it!" Michael said as Neville and Ron walked away.

He and Harry started off into the opposite direction to the 'shelter'.

Harry was in a daze. He had no idea what was going on, where he was, or what to do. _No use being reckless_ he told himself. _I've been in tough situations before, and I've always found my out._

But at the back of his mind, he knew this was different. Hogwarts had never intentionally been set on fire before.

A 28-year-old Ronald Weasley walked over to a small group of huddled Aurors alongside facially 50-year-old Neville Longbottom. He rembered his nephew's friend James. _It has been so_

_long _he though to himself. _So much has happened…and yet I remember it all… _

That boy James had somehow triggered his memory back to the past. To when Harry first disappeared. Then as he had reappeared years later, only to reveal himself as an ally to the dark side. Then, he disappeared again. His first disappearance…back when they were mere fifth years.

"_Harry lay off!" Ron yelled, as he hit Harry back square in the face. _

"_Is this it? Is this how you're going to repay me after all those times I've risked my head for your safety? Some friends!" _

"_You started it! I was only…it was…" _

"_Shut up you smart ass airhead!" Harry cut Hermione off right in the middle of her sentence. She dropped to her knees and wept. _

"_So this is it eh?" Harry gave them all one good looked and stomped off into the darkness…never to return. Never. And only because they had acted like such children... _

"Ron? RON! PAY ATTENTION! THIS HERE IS IMPORTANT!"

"Uh?" Ron looked at his brother's fuming red face. "Yeah, I'm in."

He looked at his brother Fred who was laying out their plan and situation. He had also chosen to become an Auror, just like Fred. Not that he admired Fred more than his other siblings. _It was just…_he thought. What was it again? What was the reason he had chosen to live this way? Was it the same reason Fred had chosen to? He and Hermione were already happily married. He had begun to apply for a position at Hogwarts. Then – it was then that tragedy struck.

"_Why?" _his parents asked endlessly.

"_Why?"_ His siblings cried out.

Why did the dark side choose to fall upon his brother and not anyone else…

Perhaps it was because they knew many would be traumatized. Hurt.

Fred had never been the same since George died. None of them have. That was why…

"So where exactly are we going now?" the dazed Harry dazedly asked Michael.

"To the shelters. Y'know, those places the faculty prepared incase anything like _this_ would ever happen?" Michael replied, still half annoyed at Harry.

"Oh…" Harry looked back at the Hogwarts site. The Aurors had begun dosing the fire, but he could see that there was still a lot of it to go around.

After another 2 minutes of travel, Harry saw where the walk had taken them.

It was a vast field with seemingly nothing on it.

"So where's the shelter?" Harry asked.

"It's underground I think." Michael said.

"We would've found out sooner if you hadn't gone crack like that."

"Ohhh…sorry about that Michael. It was just…" Harry trailed off.

"Trauma, huh? Don't worry about it. Just don't do it again."

They walked again for some time before Harry noticed something in the grass.

"Whoa! Watch out, there's a snake!"

"No moron." Michael said, laughing. "This is the rubber snake portkey to the underground shelter of the Slytherins."

"Okay…"Harry said, feeling stupid. _The boy who lived – afraid of snakes, even when he can talk to them?_ He thought to himself and he laughed too.

Suddenly, Michael looked around and panicked.

"Oboy…the other students aren't around. That means they're already at the shelters! We're late!"

Michael ran to the west side of the field, dragging Harry. There, he picked up a furry orange moomba lion-like creature doll.

"Hold on tight!"

In an instant, Harry and Michael had been dragged and hurtled through the stretches and recesses of time and space before landing on their behinds with a thud on a cold, marble floor.

"Whoa, we made it!" Michael sighed. Their relief was short lived.

"Ahh, children! I knew you would come! I knew it! They all told me you were lost, but I found you! Yes I did!" The tall, skinny woman continued her mindless blabbering.

"Oh no…" Harry said, realizing who it was. He got up and turned to Michael.

"What's she doing here?"

Michael smirked. "Since McGonagall croaked a couple of years ago she became the temporary house head for Gryffindor. Seems 3 years isn't temporary enough for the old bag."

_Damn. It had to be Trelawney…_ Harry thought to himself. "Waitaminit…

McGonagall CROAKED?"

"I'll explain upstairs." Michael said, jerking them both to their feet.

As he was dragged past a whacked Trelawney, Harry noticed that this 'shelter' resembled Gryffindor tower perfectly.

"Wow…a couple of years in the future and magic has reached a new height…" he whispered to himself.

"You say something?" Michael called to him from the staircase to the boys' dorms.

"Aw, nothing! I'm coming!" he replied, running up.

He looked around. All the students were staring at him, obviously trying to figure out who he was.

He covered his face and ran up ahead of Michael, who was now being flocked by some friends.

Upon arriving at the dorm, he realized he wouldn't have a bed, considering he wasn't in the right time dimension. He didn't have any clothes or belongings either. He sat down on the windowsill. For an underground shelter, this place sure had a good view of the great lake. He sighed. How would he get home? If only he could talk to Ron and Hermione…then again, who would believe his story? It was just so…impossible. Even on wizarding standards, he had never heard of time travel. Then again, on wizarding standards, Harry had never really been considered _normal_.

He closed his eyes. He had to think of someway to fix this problem.

_Think._ He told himself. Nothing came. _Think Harder!_

Perhaps it was the Mirror of Erised that had made this possible. It had revealed unbelievable things to him before, like the Sorcerer's Stone. Maybe now was just another one of those incidents. But why?

He plopped his head against the wall. Something warm and liquid fell on the tip of his nose. He wiped it off. It was blood. All at once he realized his scar was hurting so bad it could split his head in two. It was bleeding this time.

He tried to scream, but all that came out of his lips was a small yelp of pain. He felt like his throat was jammed. He fell to the floor and cringed. Then, without warning a figure formed in his subconscious. It was an eye. An eye as red as the blood trickling from his scar. He began to choke.

"Hey James, I want you to meet – Whoa!"

Michael came rushing in with three other kids. Harry couldn't see too clearly anymore. All his senses were numb from the pain. He was hauled onto a bed by two of the four people with him. Then, he fell into a deep, trance-like sleep.

When he woke up, Harry found himself on one of the four poster beds, still in the make shift Gryffindor tower. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. A sleeping mass at the side of his bed jerked.

"Oh, you're up." She smiled. It was a girl his age. Pitch black hair, with occasional streaks of white here and there. "I'm Satrea, a friend of Michael. You passed out back there about an hour ago."

"oh…" Harry started, rubbing his head. "I'm – "

"James right? Yeah, Michael told me all about you. Easily traumatized huh? Must be genetic. I mean, these white streaks on my hair are genetic too." She laughed. So did Harry. It wasn't often that a 15-year-old would get white hair.

"So, where's Michael? What's going on outside?" Harry asked.

"Well, I'm really not sure." She answered. "He's been trying to tell Trelawney about what happened to you, but she's kinda…y'know…whacked. She won't listen. The prefects haven't received any news from the headmaster, and none of really know the way out of this Gryffindor-tower-like underground dome."

"Oh…I guess we'll have to wait then." Harry said.

"Yeah, I guess so." Satrea told him.

_Great, I'm stuck to waiting again_. He sighed, and was immediately lost in thought.

"So much…has happened…and I don't have a bleeding clue about any of it….." he told himself in a low, inaudible whisper..

"Tell me about it." Satrea continued.

Harry turned to her. "You heard that?"

Satrea blushed and turned away. "Well, yeah. I did." She took a deep breath.

"I guess you can call it…a gift."

"A gift…?" Harry repeated.

Meanwhile, in a cave below the cliffs not too far away, closer than you think, torches were lit and minds were plotting. The dark magicians were gathered

"Tell me again what has brought us here." Said the black cloaked figure seated at the head of the table.

The disciples of the dark arts deteriorated years ago. After the failed revival of the dark Lord during several incidents, many of the Death Eaters had backed away. Some were caught and sent to an eternity of hell in Azkaban. Others just fled. That was after Harry Potter arrived at Hogwarts. The cursed boy ruined everything. On the verge if the dark arts becoming the lost arts, the Dark Lord did not recognize defeat. He would revive all evil in the wizarding world, as would he revive his reign over it. Or so he thought.

Just when he was running out of ideas, a miracle occurred. Or as it seemed, a miracle to the dark side, but an unbearable misfortune to the 'other' side. Harry Potter, sworn enemy to the dark lord crossed over. It was on that faithful night a decade or so ago that Harry Potter personally approached the dark Lord and asked, yes, asked Voldemort that he be permitted to join the dark side. At first it seemed like a trick to lure the dark Lord into the open, but strangely, Harry never exposed the dark followers, or the Dark Lord. Was it power he sought? No one understood. For a year, neither Harry nor Voldemort were seen or heard from, and just as the wizarding world, believed them dead, they returned. Voldemort revived with insane power, and Harry, his right hand. Since then, the charisma of the dark Lord increased heavily, and his followers increased.

Again, Voldemort, with Harry behind him, disappeared to an unknown place, from where he had been dictating the death eaters' next move. The war between the ministry and the dark side had not subsided since.

Now, he decided was the time to re-expose themselves.

"Now is the time, my faithful brethren." Voldemort began. All the torches surrounding the underground hall flickered, and all was silent. "Now is the time to reunite our tidings with the world above. I have been in this hell hole too long." He continued and trailed off.

"I summon my right hand!" he yelled.

Nothing.

"I summon my right hand!" He repeated.

A man stepped out of the crown below.

"Come before me servant!" Voldemort cried out.

The man, raven black hair, deep misty eyes, and a lightning scar on his forehead, walked up beside the dark Lord.

"Harry Potter." Voldemort began again.

"It was 13 years ago that you came to me, asking to be one of my dark wizards.

You were my sworn enemy. I did not know what had prompted you to do so, and still, I do not know. But I do know this, you brought me to this cavern, and after one year of wavering loyalty, you succeeded in making me believe your capabilities. You gave me power beyond belief, and you told me that the time for the darkness to reign, would be in 13 years. You prophesied your own destiny boy, and now is the time of fulfillment." He stopped and held out his hand.

"Now give my your hand boy, and give me the power of that prophecy!"

The boy did not move.

"Are you listening to me? Your hand boy!"

The boy held out his hand to Vodemort's, then he immediately grabbed Voldemort and pulled him down. In the wink of an eye, he unsheathed a silver glinting dagger, and thrust it into the dark Lords heart.

The dagger, engulfed in a powerful curse, enroached the dark Lord's body. As his flesh melted away, the dark Lord's spirit was lifted into the dagger. And then, nothing but a silver blade over a pile of ashes.

The boy picked up the dagger and looked up. All the dark wizards were motionless.

"Now," he began, "The prophecy, my prophecy is put into action."

He gazed around the room. No sign of countering gestures.

"The dark forces will come into hand. With me leading it."

All at once, all dark wizards gathered in the room bowed to their new master, Harry Potter.

"We attack Hogwarts again tonight."


End file.
